‘We must do anything – anything – to secure a victory,’ said Langelee. ‘So I shall visit a few fellow heads of house this morning. Godrich will be a disaster for them, because he will favour King’s Hall, whereas Suttone will be impartial. At least, that is what I shall tell them.’
At that moment, Clippesby hurried up with Ethel, the College’s lead hen, under one arm. ‘You told Kolvyle to organise today’s entertainment, Master,’ he said, rather accusingly. ‘But his idea of fun is to invite Hopeman to tell us why he should be Chancellor. May I be excused? Ethel says he is too obsessed with Satan to be pleasant company, and I agree.’
Suttone gaped at him. ‘Hopeman plans to give an election speech in my College?’
Clippesby nodded. ‘Along with Godrich and Thelnetham, so the event will be acrimonious as they all attack each other’s stances. Ethel dislikes discord, and we would both rather spend the day with her flock.’
‘Yes, go,’ said Langelee, aware that letting visitors see a Fellow with a chicken on his lap was unlikely to do much for Michaelhouse’s reputation as a foundation for serious learning. ‘But not to the henhouse. Visit your friary, and persuade Morden to vote for Suttone.’
‘I have already tried, but he will not go against a member of his own Order. Indeed, he is pressuring me to vote for Hopeman, too. But I shall stand by Suttone. He is the better man.’
‘Even a slug is a better man than Hopeman,’ growled William. ‘You should hear his nasty views on Apostolic Poverty.’
‘You will,’ predicted Clippesby, backing away. ‘At noon, when he is due to arrive.’
‘This is unacceptable,’ wailed Suttone. ‘I know it will make no difference to the election – Michaelhouse will vote for me no matter what the other candidates say here today – but that is beside the point.’
‘Why did they agree to come?’ asked Bartholomew, bemused. ‘They know where our allegiance lies.’
‘I imagine Kolvyle devised some spurious logic to convince them that it is in their best interests,’ replied Michael, scowling. ‘And we cannot turn them away, because it will look as though we think Suttone is unequal to the challenge of besting them. I am afraid Kolvyle has presented us with a fait accompli.’
‘The slippery little toad,’ spat Langelee. ‘I am beginning to think the only way to muzzle him is to lock him in the cellar. One more stunt like this, and I shall do it.’
‘Do it now,’ begged Suttone. ‘Before he loses me the election.’
‘Not yet,’ said Langelee. ‘We shall have to let him put in an appearance at this debate, or the other candidates will assume that we were obliged to muzzle him because we cannot keep him in order. However, the moment it is over …’
‘Three days,’ said Michael. ‘Then Suttone will be Chancellor, and we can all turn our attention to solving the nuisance that Kolvyle has become. It is not long to wait.’
‘It feels like an eternity to me,’ grumbled Suttone.
‘Here is Kolvyle now,’ said Langelee. He beckoned the youngster over, and launched into a lecture about College etiquette – which did not include Junior Fellows inviting outsiders to speak to the students without the Master’s prior permission.
Kolvyle shrugged insolently. ‘Our boys should see how poorly Suttone compares to Godrich. They have a right to know what sort of man Michaelhouse thinks should be in charge of the University.’
‘There will be nothing wrong with my performance,’ objected Suttone, stung.
Kolvyle looked him up and down, taking in the stained habit, plump face still dappled with crumbs from breakfast, and cloak that was rumpled from spending the night in a heap on the floor. Then he put his head in the air and stalked away without a word.
‘Three days,’ repeated Michael. ‘Then that little snake will be gone. I swear it.’
‘Good,’ said Suttone, and turned to Bartholomew. ‘I saw him talking to Edith late last night. She looked very cross, so you might want to make sure he did nothing to upset her. He despises us all, and would think nothing of striking at us through those we love.’
Alarmed, Bartholomew went to visit Edith as soon as his students had been settled in the hall with Kolvyle, whose idea of light entertainment until the would-be chancellors arrived was to read aloud from a variety of legal tomes. If William had not agreed to stand guard at the door, Bartholomew’s classes would have been out, and there would have been nothing Kolvyle could have done to stop them.
Michael accompanied Bartholomew, because Edith’s Sunday breakfasts were famous for their quality, and Agatha’s egg-mash had not quite hit the spot that morning. It was another clear day, although bitterly cold, and the ruts in the road had frozen so hard that they made for treacherous walking. The yellowish quality of the light suggested there might be snow before too long.
They reached Milne Street to find Trinity Hall’s rubble still lying across the road, although a narrow corridor had been cleared through the middle of it. The pathway was not wide enough for carts, but there was room for two pedestrians to pass each other – unless one of them happened to be Michael. The monk battled his way through, then grimaced when the first people they met on the other side were Godrich, Whittlesey and some King’s Hall cronies.
‘Tell Suttone to withdraw before he suffers an embarrassing defeat, Brother,’ Godrich said gloatingly. ‘Because Trinity Hall has just changed its mind about supporting him. It is astonishing how loyalty can be bought with the promise of funds for clearing up this mess.’
‘Very honourable,’ said Michael icily. ‘Your family must be proud of you.’
Godrich shrugged. ‘They understand expediency.’
‘And does this expediency extend to dispatching your rivals?’
Godrich’s manner went from smug to angry in the wink of an eye. ‘You cannot prove I had anything to do with Lyng’s death, and you will be sorry if you use it to stop me from winning.’
‘Yet you do not deny the accusation,’ mused Michael.
‘Of course I deny it!’ cried Godrich. ‘You twist my words.’
‘Easy,’ said Whittlesey, coming to place a warning hand on his cousin’s shoulder. ‘You will gain nothing by challenging the Senior Proctor. Besides, he knows you are innocent of these crimes.’
‘Do I indeed?’ murmured Michael. ‘That is interesting to hear.’
‘I will be Chancellor in three days,’ said Godrich, reining in his temper with difficulty. ‘And the first thing I shall do is appoint a new Senior Proctor. The University will be very different in the future.’
‘You think you can oust me?’ asked Michael, amused by the notion.
‘It will not be necessary to oust you – you will go to Rochester of your own accord. Your successor will be Geoffrey Dodenho.’
Dodenho stepped forward to bow, and Bartholomew struggled to mask his dismay. The King’s Hall man was decent enough, but wholly unsuitable for such a demanding post. Godrich shot Michael a gloating sneer, and led his friends away, although Whittlesey lingered.
‘Godrich is tenacious, dedicated and energetic,’ he said quietly. ‘He rose before dawn to begin visiting hostels with a view to securing their support. Can Suttone say the same?’
‘He was in church, dedicating his time to God, not his own interests,’ retorted Michael, overlooking the fact that the Carmelite had then returned to College and consumed a leisurely breakfast. ‘And Godrich is not the sort of person we want in charge.’
Whittlesey frowned. ‘Of course he is. I have just listed his virtues and–’